


Come Over Tonight

by ivysea



Series: songs for his Witcher [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Idiots in Love, Jealous Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Songfic, They don't talk about feelings (as always)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25290895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivysea/pseuds/ivysea
Summary: He watched as the patrons all began to pay more attention to him as he crooned out the verse. Then, his eyes scanned the back wall until he found Geralt, stoic as always. He wished it were Geralt who was taking notice of his lyrics and planning to climb into his bed. After their kiss, Jaskier had felt a palpable tension between them each night. He imagined it would be a delight to explore such a thing, laying Geralt out on a comfortable bed and positively worshipping him. He shook the thought from his head as he launched into the chorus, hoping the arousal he’d felt hadn’t reached Geralt’s senses.He feared the Witcher had picked up on his mood though as his golden eyes darkened and his cheeks colored slightly. As Jaskier sang, he felt Geralt’s heavy gaze on him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: songs for his Witcher [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824904
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	Come Over Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part 2 of the series! I love the song that this one is set to. If you listen to the live version, just picture ladies and gents positively swooning over Jaskier while he sings and Geralt burning with jealousy over in the corner. 
> 
> The last half of this one is basically just smut so do with that what you will.

_The sun left the stage,_   
_And the blue-black horizon_   
_Stole the last of my kind words,_   
_I've nothing to say._   
_As we walk 'neath the street lamp_   
_That's flickering on_   
_I suggest that we dance_   
_But you just laugh it off,_   
_..._

They began travelling together again as if nothing had  changed .  Jaskier would trail behind Geralt and Roach, talking both their ears off about something and nothing all at once. Occas ionally, Geralt would hum and  Jaskier took that as a signal to  continue with his anecdotes. On lucky days, when the weather was just right and their coin purses were fat, Geralt would chuckle lowly at  Jaskier’s renditions of his days in the courts of lords and ladies.  It was these times, few and far between, that cemented  Jaskier to his place at  Geralt’s side. 

With all that said, there were still differences between them now. There were nights when  Jaskier fell silent, or when Geralt would pay for two rooms instead of one. Before, there were never lapses in conversation and now it seemed that  Jaskier would run out of things to  say to his Witcher, much to  Geralt’s unspoken  disappointment .

It was on one such night, after a hunt, that the silence bore down heavy.  Jaskier had finished one tale and never launched into the next. He was  walking silently at  Geralt’s heels as they returned to the inn  they had been staying at. Jaskier was  exhausted , but he had no desire to fall into a bed in his lonely room. He wanted company. He wanted Geralt to stay with him like they had before the mountain and before he ran away. But Geralt needed space, he could  understand that.  He often wondered if he could do more to make Geralt trust that he wouldn’t leave again. Maybe if he talked more,  always led the  conversation, Geralt would allow him to sleep in his room again. 

Beyond that, he wondered if Geralt was amplifying the space  between them at night because of the last time they were in a bedroom together. Occasionally,  Jaskier’s wandering mind would flash back to the night that Geralt fell to his knees and kissed him. Oh, how he’d wished for a repeat of that night , but under different circumstances. 

“Do you hear that?” He quipped, stepping to catch up to the Witcher.

Geralt just glanced at him, not saying anything about the music that was softly flowing out of an open door and into the empty road they walked on. 

“It’s music, dear Wolf! One of my favorite songs, if I am not mistaken. And we both know I’m never wrong about music.” He laughed, twirling around and dipping into a bow. As his eyes raised to  Geralt’s , he was struck with sudden ins piration. He’d never seen Geralt dance. 

His idea must’ve glowed in his eyes because  Geralt’s face darkened slightly. “Absolutely not, bard.” 

Jaskier just laughed and clasped one of  Geralt’s callused hands in his own. “Shall we dance?” 

He tugged  Geralt’s arm upwards and spun under it, forcing the other man to keep them both  balanced as he flailed about in the street. 

Geralt groaned as  Jaskier attempted to dip himself, anchoring on a strong arm that may have been covered in  various monstrous entrails. “Dance with me!” He cried out, laughter forcing  its way out of his lips with the words. 

When he calmed enough to look up at Geralt, he was surprised to find a smile.  Better still, Geralt laughed quietly at his antics.  Jaskier’s heart swelled miserably at the sight. 

“I knew you loved my dancing.”  Jaskier joked, as they began to walk again. His heart  throbbed again at the mere memory of  Geralt’s booming laugh and shining grin . It was not  often that he was graced with a sight such as that. 

Geralt did not respond verbally, he just bumped their shoulders together and  continued towards the inn. 

Once they reached the place they had been staying, Geralt went to tether Roach and see to her care for the evening.  Jaskier entered the inn alone, taking stock of the crowd that had already begun drinking for the evening . He met eyes with a woman and threw a wink her way, adding her to his list of possible bedmates for the night.  He was in no mood to be alone and Geralt had already paid for two rooms, which meant he would need to find another companion. 

As he collapsed into a chair, he was greeted shyly by the innkeeper.  “How would you like a free meal and drinks?” He asked innocently, staring at  Jaskier hopefully. This happened everywhere they went as of late. The people would find out that the bard was in town and they’d hound the local innkeeper until  Jaskier played them a song or two, or eighteen depending on the crowd. 

“You are a fine man,”  Jaskier said, laying on the theatrics as he stood again and slung an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “ I'll take ale and a meal for myself and the Witcher and then I’d love to entertain the people of this fine establishment.” He finished with flair. 

The innkeeper agreed to his terms and busied himself putting together the meals and the ale.  Jaskier looked around, eying the  dancing women and the barmaids in turn. One of them would do for the night, he was sure of it.  Oh, what he’d give to have a body underneath him for the night, writhing and moaning until dawn. 

It had been what felt like ages since he’d found  himself entangled  i n the  heat of another. Ever since he and Geralt had  begun traveling together again, he’d been so busy worrying about the Witcher and how to keep him around and what to say to him  that he’d neglected his needs.  Sometimes, he’d catch himself wondering if there was a  way he might combine the two; his craving for another and his love for the White Wolf. 

He was broken out of his thoughts as Geralt slid into the place next to him with a grumble about the people in the inn staring at him.  Jaskier just laughed and threw out a comment about the fine women before sinking back into his own thought s. Sometimes, with Geralt, silence was easier than chasing a conversation out of the man.

Eventually, they received their meals and tucked into them gratefully.  Jaskier had never seen someone eat as ravenously as Geralt, as if he  was always  starving. Years ago, he would’ve complained about it, but now it was another e nd earing detail that he loved about his friend.  Friends could love friends, he supposed as he patted  Geralt’s broad shoulder and picked up his lute to play. 

After his usual set, he decided to sing another song. He’d written it years ago as a young bard who’d seduced many maidens and men with his notes. He’d  refrained from performing this song for years, after Geralt had pointed out how obnoxious he’d found it. He hated wading through a sea of townspeople to escort  Jaskier to their room afterward . Now, though,  Jaskier had his own quarters.  He smirked at the thought of  Geralt’s eyeroll as he began to strum.

  
_“Summer love once was easy,_  
 _But innocence, she's fleeting_  
 _And I'm not as young as I once was_  
 _Your eyes look as tired as_  
 _A midwestern sky after three days of thunderstorms._  
 _But couldn't we try..._  
  
 _My painted words,_  
 _Tell me what they're worth”_

He watched as the patrons all began to pay more attention to him as he crooned out the verse. Then, his eyes scanned the back wa l l until he found Geralt, stoic as always. He wished it were Geralt who was taking notice of his lyrics and planning to climb into his bed . After their kiss,  Jaskier had felt a palpable tension between them each night. He imagined it would be a delight to explore such a thing, laying Geralt out on a comfortable bed and positively worshipping him. He shook the thought from his head as he launched  into the chorus , hoping the arousal he’d felt hadn’t reached  Geralt’s senses. 

He feared the Witcher had picked up on his mood though as his golden eyes darkened and his cheeks colored slightly. As Jaskier sang, he felt Geralt’s heavy gaze on him.   
  
_“So come over tonight if you want me._  
 _Come over tonight, spend some time._  
 _I won't ask for forever,_  
 _How 'bout til the light_  
 _Won't you lay with me here for a while_  
 _And come over tonight.”_

As he  sang, he couldn’t help but stare at the Witcher who was shockingly , still staring right back.  Jaskier didn’t know what was happening, but he  felt as though he was finally about to catch the  man he had been chasing for twenty -some years. 

After the song  ended, he collected his coin and made his way back to Geralt, taking note of his heated gaze and filing it away for later. He slipped into his previous seat and turned  to face his friend, hoping to all the gods that the heat in his belly might subside. 

Surprisingly, it was Geralt who broke the  heavy silence that had settled around them. “So, you’re planning on bedding a maiden tonight, bard?” 

His tone was clipped and cold, a harsh comparison to the fire that had not left his eyes or the tightness in which he gripped his mug of ale. 

“A man does have needs, dear wolf.”  Jaskier responded, leaning slightly closer to the other. He could feel  Geralt’s breath across his cheeks as they stared at one another. Each man seemed to be waiting for the other to offer an olive branch or any type of direction. 

“But alas,”  Jaskier continued, watching Geralt for any sort of reaction. “I might seek the heat of  another man tonight.” 

Gold eyes darkened further but Geralt just hummed, as if he wanted  Jaskier to continue. If there was one thing the bard was confident in doing, it was speaking. He continued.

“Yes, I think that sounds far better. Don’t you? I would simply delight in having a strong man beneath me in my bed tonight.” 

Silence. 

Geralt did not break eye contact though so  Jaskier spoke once more. “I’d bathe him first, ever so gently. Then, I’d take him to bed and positively worship him.” He grinned, hoping Geralt understood what he  was insinuating. 

Unfortunately for the bard, he did not. 

“Enough.” Geralt growled, glaring menacingly. 

Confusion washed over the bard as he realized that Geralt was not understanding his flirtations. 

“I have no interest in hearing of you and the lovers you take.” The Witcher continued, standing from his seat and collecting his  coin purse . “I’m going to take a bath. Have a good night, bard.”

Jaskier watched his friend stomp off in confusion.  He'd assumed they were on the same page after his performance, but  apparently, they were in two completely different books.  And perhaps, Geralt was jealous. At least, that was what it seemed to the bard. 

He chuckled at their situation ruefully, glaring at his ale as if it could fix the situation. Of course, it did nothing but make him feel worse.  Lonelier , almost. He too, decided to retire to his room. That is, until he was  walking down the hallway that housed the doors for both his quarters and  Geralt’s .

It was then that  he decided to throw the rest of his caution to the wind and confront the other on his little temper fit. And, if all went well, he’d brooch deeper, more animalistic topics as well. He was still a man, after all.

Jaskier entered  Geralt’s room quietly, making his way to the steaming tub that held his companion. Geralt watched him silently, making no move to cover himself or to request the bard’s exit.  Jaskier pulled a small stool to the tub, perching behi nd Geralt and working his nimble fingers into tangled white hair. 

Geralt leaned back into his touch, allowing him to wash his hair and shoulders as he used to do so often. “I did not mean to upset you, wolf.”  Jaskier murmured as he worked. He felt  Geralt’s neck and shoulders tighten for a moment before he responded to the apo logy that had been offered.

“I do not wish to hear of you with others... men or women.” Geralt mumbled, sinking slightly lower in the water. 

Well.

That wasn’t what  Jaskier was expecting at all.  He'd expected a cold rejection, or a reminder that  witchers only wanted fair women, not bards. Slowly, he allowed curious hands to break away from  Geralt’s hair and smooth  down over his broad chest.

As he moved, Geralt let out a quiet groan, so low it was nearly silent.  Jaskier leaned down  further , until his lips brushed the shell of an exposed ear. 

“What would you like from me then, my dear  Witcher ?”  He whispered as his hands explored the pale expanse of the other man’s chest, fingers grazing over hardened nipples. 

His movements were met with a strangled noise.  “Hmm, is this what you want?” He asked as he took a nipple between two fingers and gave it a light pinch. Geralt positively quivered at that, bringing a hand up to cover  Jaskier’s .

“I need you to tell me what you’d like, love.”  Jaskier murmured into  Geralt’s ear and ghosting his lips down his strong neck. 

“ Jask -” It was broken off by another keen of pleasure as  Jaskier licked a broad stripe across the Witcher’s neck. 

“Words, dear.” Despite his demand for verbal communication, he did not stop any of his movements. He felt himself grow hard as  Geralt unraveled in the tub before him. After another stripe was licked onto  Geralt’s neck , he pulled his face and hands away, reveling in the growl that escaped his lovely Witcher. 

“I think I will escort myself to my own  quarters now , love. But you know where to find me should your gorgeous voice return to you.” 

The walk to his own room was torturous. But each step brought him closer to his personal collection of oils that would be perfect for his companion. Should Geralt accept his offer, he thought, he would take him apart over and over  until his senses were overloaded with the bard. 

By the time he sank onto his own bed, he was painfully hard and leaking. Part of him was itching to relieve himself, but he could not resist the urge to wait for Geralt. Mere moments later, he was met with satisfaction as his door was thrown open by  said man. 

His hair was still dripping from his bath and his clothes looked as though they were thrown on without a second glance. But, most  noticeable of all, his cock stood to full attention beneath his  loose-fitting pants.  Jaskier gr inned  uncontrollably as Geralt stalked over to the bed, stopping just inches away from the bard. 

“I want you.” He growled, unmoving. 

Jaskier chuckled and reached his hand out, tracing the prominent outline that was taking shape in  Geralt’s pants. The Witcher pressed into his touch, not uttering another sound. 

“Do you remember,”  Jaskier started, tugging  Geralt’s pants down as he spoke. His mouth watered at the way he sprang free, hard and leaking against his stomach. What he would give to take the Witcher into his mouth immediately, but he had other plans  for the night. “When you knelt for me so many months ago?”

As he asked his question, Geralt keened and bucked into his hand. “Yes.” He panted, hands fluttering as if he was unsure of where to set them. 

“I would like to see that gorgeous sight again.”  Jaskier said, giving his cock one more stroke before motioning for Geralt to kneel before him. To his surprise, there was no pushback. The strong man fell to  his knees, resting his head on  Jaskier ’s clothed thigh. 

Jaskier tangled a hand in  Geralt’s hair, tugging his face up  towards himself and touching their lips together lightly. The position was awkward, but the managed to kiss for a few moments, breathing heavily.  He could kiss Geralt all day long if he’d let him,  Jaskier decided as their tongues battled and Geralt panted into his mouth. He was so easily flustered, so perfectly undone.  The perfect surprise. 

“Want you in my mouth.” Geralt breathed, almost  imperceptibly , as his fingers scrambled with  Jaskier’s clothing.  Gods almighty.  Who was  Ja skier to deny him such a wish? He stroked a hand through  Geralt’s wet hair and nodded at him before his clothes were discarded somewhere across the room and  callused hands were becoming  acquainted with every inch of skin on him. 

Before he could utter a word, Geralt had wrapped his lips around  Jaskier’s length and began to move up and down. If kissing Geralt was addictive, this  in itself must be heaven,  Jaskier thought as he moaned loudly and thrusted up into the heat of the W itcher’s mouth.  His hands both found purchase in the white hair and after a grunt of approval from the other man,  JAskier began to hold  Geralt’s head and thrust upwards. 

He knew he was moaning loudly, knew people could probably hear them. But that didn’t matter as  Geralt’s mouth pulled obscene noises from him. It mattered even less when he yanked his long, white hair sharply and received the m ost pleasant cry of pleasure he’d ever heard. He could feel heat building low in his belly and knew he was close. 

“I’m nearly there, love.” He panted to the other man, glancing down to where  Geralt’s flushed cock was  leaking all over his stomach, dripping down onto his legs as well. What a sight. “After this it’s your turn. Can’t wait to  touch you.” He moaned again. 

“You look so good for me, so patient.” He said to Geralt before he thrusted one last time and spilled into the Witcher’s mouth. Geralt too  every last drop before pulling off with a ‘pop’ and staring at J a skier hazily.

“What would you like from me?”  Jaskier asked sweetly as he tugged Geralt up and onto the small bed with him, watching his limbs spread languidly and his eyes close halfway. “You’ll have to use your words.” He added when it seemed the other man had n o intention of answering. 

“Just touch me.” Geralt breathed, skin flushed the prettiest shade of pink. “Just want your hands on me.” He begged.

Now that,  Jaskier could manage, even in his post-orgasmic haze. Hs mind cleared significantly as soon as he dragged his fingertips across the broad expanse of  Geralt’s chest. “ Oh my love,  I’m going to take you apart with my  finger s tonight.” He said before pressing a kiss on  Geralt’s neck, rubbing both hands up and down his sides. 

He  caressed every inch of his Witcher, positioning himself between his splayed legs and massaging his thighs. The only place he hadn’t touched was the flushed cock that was still leaking profusely . He ate up each moan and groan that tore from the other’s throat and teased further. 

“Hmm, would you like my fingers tonight, love?” He asked as his hands slipped up and onto  Geralt’s firm ass. He was answered by a sharp moan, clearly an affirmation. “Good  boy.” He murmured as he reached for a bottle of oil he’d brought over before Geralt had arrived at his door. 

He slicked his fingers slowly, relishing in the way Geralt spread his legs further and stared at him as if he held the key to all he desired. As he slowly pressed one digit into  Geralt’s impossibly tight heat, he leaned forward to kiss  the other man, swallowing gasps of pleasure in his wake. 

By the time he slipped another finger in and began to scissor them slowly, G e ralt was a full mess. He was speaking gibberish and clinging to the bard like a lifeline. He was clenching and unclenching on  Jaskier’s fingers and the bard knew he had to have been close despite the  lack of stimulation his cock had received. It was always a special treat when his lovers could finish without  anything extra.  Just as he’d suspected, Geralt spilled onto himself with a cry and a bite to  Jaskier’s bottom lip. Gods, he was gorgeous,  Jaskier thought as he pulled his fingers out and hushed  Geralt’s whine with his lips. 

As  Jaskier wiped his Witcher clean, his thoughts were racing again. He could do this every day for the rest of his life if Geralt would permit it. The hadn’t discussed where this left them either. Friends?  Lovers? He was unsure as he discarded the rag and arranged  Geralt’s lax form in the bed to allow for him to sneak in behind him and wrap an arm around the other man’s waist. 

Geralt stiffened after a few moments, turning to face  J a skier with a hardened expression, as if the  occurrences from that night were meaningless. “ Witchers do not love.” He said, gauging J a skier’s face for any reaction. 

Luckily for the bard, he was a showman, and a d am n good one at that. He schooled his expression to one of indifference and shrugged. “We are not in love, Geralt. We are simply two friends who offer ed assistance on a lonely night.” 

His hear sunk as relief flashed across  Geralt’s face and he relaxed into  Jaskier’s touch again. “Good.” He grunted, rolling over again but allowing J a skier to remain wrapped around him. Maybe now was not the time to confess his feelings, then, Jaskier thought to himself as he relaxed into  Geralt’s heat and closed his eyes. 

In the morning, things would go back to the way they were, but for now he could take this moment and allow it to fill the cracks in his heart. 

  
_..._  
 _Now harsh words like trust, desire and love_  
 _Are just sand in the ocean for us._  
 _'Cause there's too much at stake_  
 _And we couldn't explain_  
 _So for now can't we just pretend_  
 _That this is enough..._  
 _..._  



End file.
